


A Little Cold

by LaMarwy



Series: The Ingricent Chronicles [3]
Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Ingricent, Magic, One Shot Collection, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMarwy/pseuds/LaMarwy
Summary: Ingrith and Maleficent pay an unexpected visit to Ulstead. They grow closer.
Relationships: Ingrith/Maleficent (Disney)
Series: The Ingricent Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537843
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	A Little Cold

3\. A LITTLE COLD

Phillip paced back and forth for another minute, occasionally glancing over his own distorted reflection on the quivering waters of the main fountain. He would still wonder how such a graceful creature like Aurora had fallen in love with a clumsy boy like himself, good with the sword and well acquainted with the court rules, but not even particularly brilliant when dealing with the landlords and their requests. His wife, despite lacking a proper training whatsoever, was a natural; perhaps being raised by a fae, surrounded by good-hearted creatures that taught her compassion and the beauty of complete peace, had been more useful than any other rules or books.

Quite frankly, he liked to rule by her side, even if that meant that the crown above his own head meant less than hers. Aurora was the true Queen, it was only fair, and his job was to support her, advise her – though she didn’t need such assistance most of the time – and command the army in order to keep the people safe and guarded.

If only his mother could’ve seen how far they’d gone without a single war.  
The Ingrith he knew, would’ve stomped her feet and yell her disappointment at her only son leaving, gladly, his throne to a clueless girl who had been raised by savages. The thought made him smile. Perhaps Aurora’s plan had indeed borne fruits and her staying in the Moors had made her gentler and kinder and more understanding.

Or perhaps.. not.

Turning slowly his head toward the sudden chatter noise that was starting to build, he immediately realized that there was something at the gate that had aroused the guards’ attention. He could hear men complaining and a well-known female voice shouting in response, along with familiar golden hair, severely tousled, popping out every now and then from the tall men’s armours and, later, a rather unfamiliar outfit that made him both frown and giggle. Now, seeing his mother in a leather suit was not something he was expecting.

Shaking his head and determined to let the former Queen trespass, Phillip jogged toward the gates, reassuring the guards who were only trying to to their job and threw his mother a wide smile. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting from their first encounter after weeks in the Moors, but after spotting that new outfit, worthy of someone well adjusted to a new life with the fair folks, he surely didn’t foresee Ingrith sporting one of her dangerous expression plastered on her face. Perhaps he wasn’t that happy to have her back after all.

“Mother!” He greeted, but the word sounded too loud. “You’re back already?” He asked with a frown; either Maleficent had done some terribly fine job or her mother had tired the fae off completely, to the point where she only wanted to get rid of the woman.  
The latter was highly possible.

After a split second of awkward silence, however, Phillip mentally slapped himself: he wasn’t supposed to give away his thoughts. Clearly he was not a good actor nor his brain worked fast enough, but he couldn’t help but wondering whether she had been exiled from the Moors as well. In that case, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Or perhaps she’d been sent home. Yes, why not? Ingrith was just angry because everyone was treating her like a package, throwing her back and forth from one realm to the other.

“Phillip, we need to talk.” Announced Ingrith dryly.

Narrowing his eyes, the young King spotted something approaching behind his mother: Maleficent and Diaval in his crow form. He frowned, surprised to see them there as well and wondering why they were proceeding so oddly slow, the raven circling the fae frantically.

His mother’s voice made him tense and turning his eyes back to her, ready to ask for more, he noticed that she was not just wearing a set of curious clothing, but her hair were not just ruffled, they were dripping water, as well with her whole self. “You’re all wet!” He pointed out, still with a high-pitched voice. What was going on?

Ingrith closed her eyes and heaved a sharp, annoyed sigh. “We fell into the river.” She spat dryly, waving her hand dismissively “I’ll tell you later.”

Stretching his neck to see for himself, he noticed that the other as well was trailing a dark path of water where she’d been walking. How odd. Anyway, the presence of both of them there was the oddest circumstance of all and the curiosity was slowly beginning to devour him. “So, what did you want to tell me, mother? What brings you here, your staying in the Moors has met its terms?”

Folding her arms on her chest and averting her eyes, she sighed again. “Not exactly.” She mumbled vaguely. “There’s much to discover, still. The reason that brings us here is another: you see, Maleficent she-”

“Godmother!”

The enthusiastic shriek of Aurora cut her off mid-sentence. Ingrith imperceptibly exhaled – honestly, how could she be so happy all the time, even locked up in a castle all day, forced to hear the rants of peasants from dawn to dusk? And how could she look so lively that early in the morning and _oh_ , those flowers in her hair almost hiding the crown! Such a disgrace.

“Hello, Beastie.” The fae replied from afar with a grin. Her voice, however, sounded distant and weary.

 _What a fool_. Ingrith rolled her eyes and, quickly, before Aurora could leap as usual into the fae’s arms, she stepped forward and held her breath to prevent some allergic reaction. “You don’t want to do that, dear.” She warned with a gentle, but admonitory voice.

Maleficent, who had just arrived, glared at the former Queen, but didn’t reply. Aurora pouted instead and stood still, waiting for good explanations. Why couldn’t she hug the fae, after weeks they’d been apart? Her regal clothes would dry in no time, if that was their concern.

“What’s going on, mother?” Asked Phillip with a firmer tone, impatience replacing curiosity.

“Last thing the Ulstead needs is a sick Queen.” Ingirth gestured the fae with a single nod of her head and, suddenly all the attention fell on Maleficent. The usual pallor of her skin couldn’t give anything away, but now her dimly glowing eyes and slouching figure were more noticeable.

Aurora frowned, concern and stupor battling inside her brain. “Faeries don’t fall ill.”

“That’s what she said.” Replied Ingrith with a snort. “But she’s got a cold, I can tell you.”

The young Queen stared, still sad upon being forbidden to hug Maleficent, but sincerely wondering how it could’ve been possible. They looked wet, both of them, but not even fair folks could fall ill so quickly – given that they could fall ill in the first place, that was. Their journey had had to began earlier and it also had to be serious for Ingirth to drag her all the way back to Ulstead and Maleficent letting her do so. “Is it really that bad?” She asked in a dim voice. In twenty-one years she’d never seen her sick; and not to mention that Maleficent was a grumpy, snappy creature already as she was.

Ingrith rolled her eyes, platonically this time, and tapped the ground with one of her feet.  
“How bad you ask?” She snorted bitterly. “Her magic falters. We fell into the river because her magical bridge disappeared halfway.” The woman said, still dripping water from her clothes, the puddle by her feet growing in size by the minute. “It all started this morning: she tried to fly, but fell down, scraped her knees and elbow and ranted about it for hours, then complained that her magic wouldn’t heal her wounds.” She vented, watching Maleficent with the corner of her eyes, ready to shush her in case she’d tried to reply. “I dragged her here because she kept yelling at those poor little creatures that were just trying to help her, and they came to me – to _me_ , get that? Because they were scared of her! I can’t deal with her any longer, she’s a pain in the-”

“Mother!” Phillip hushed her just in time, before the deadly glare of Maleficent could become something more physical and consequently more dangerous. It was a rather serious matter, but inside – he couldn’t help himself – he was laughing his heart off. And he was sure that his lovely wife was sharing his feelings, which she confirmed with a hidden smirk and a sideways glance.

“Am I allowed to say something?” Growled Maleficent, sniffling.

The young sovereigns cleared their throats and waited.

Ingrith, on the other hand, was having none of it, clearly she had already enough. She clicked her tongue patronizingly and shook her head slowly, the tip of her tongue touching her front teeth. “Nope.” She snapped.

Maleficent narrowed her eyes and her fingers started to glow with faint threads of irregular magic, but before she could even try reply or make her voice or opposition heard, her breath caught and, an instant later, she sneezed.

Aurora and Phillip both jerked, half surprised and half startled, when dozens of multicoloured bubbles started to float around them and, upon their bursting, which sounded like the delicate chime of bells, they became small butterflies with mismatched wings and improbable shades.

Ingrith casually blew one away from her face, totally unimpressed, and slapped another with the back of her hand – and turning it into glimmering dust – like it was all normal.

Aurora stared with her mouth agape. “That’s… new.”

“It’s nothing!” Retorted the former Queen. “Last time she spawned angry wasps as big as your head with a single sneeze. Inside the cottage. Pure chaos. You should've seen.”

If Aurora thought she couldn't have been surprised again in a single day, she had to rethink that double-quick. “The cottage?” She stammered, trying not to look so obviously puzzled.

“Not the one you grew up in, dear.” Ingrith assured, somehow convinced that the girl would feel jealous or funny, at least, to know that the one who had tried to kill her whole family and Godmother was sleeping in her own bed, perhaps. “I mean, it was too far anyway. She created a cottage for us- _me_ , under her own tree.” She stated, rather proudly too, poking her elbow into Maleficent’s side, who flinched and glared intensely at the woman. Ingrith wasn’t exactly sure why – did she say something off by chance? After all, the fae spent a lot of time in the cottage too, its was only fair to call it _theirs_. No harm in that.

“It’s – er, more practical.” The fae hurried, shaking her wings for a moment to get rid of the exceeding water from her delicate feathers before tucking them around her like a shawl.

Aurora and Phillip exchanged yet another perplexed glance. “Doubtlessly.” The young Queen mumbled in a daze. Phillips agreed with a slow nodding movement, his jaw hanging.

“Right. Since we’re here, should we put her in my old room, perhaps? It’s the warmest of the whole castle.”

“Sure.” The young Queen agreed with a slurry voice, leading the way and wondering whether was she still dreaming in her bed or not.

...  
  


She never thought it possible, but the castle she’d been living in for the past thirty years of her life didn’t feel like her home anymore. Now that she really thought about it – had it ever? Her father had sent her to Ulstead to marry King John as a peace offering and request of help during desperate times of starvation and poverty. She had been too young and too angry to get any of those kind regimes those kings had, and soon enough had surrounded herself with bloodthirsty warriors full of rage and hatred for the fair folks. She’d raised an army under her husband’s nose with the only purpose of making the Ulstead a powerful, feared realm the other would admire and imitate. And now that everything had turned to smoke, she was beginning to see how futile her plans had been.

Because once she’d killed every magical creature, decimated the army and set her long-lasted reign of terror, what would be left? She’d had no one to share her accomplishments with. Now that everything had gone, she could hear the void that had been inside of her screaming louder and then falling silent as soon as her mind thought about her new life in the Moors. Maybe for the first time in her life, Ingrith felt like she had a place where she was accepted and where she had a purpose. Nothing grand, nothing relevant like rule a kingdom, but equally, if not more, satisfying. The fair folks, with their forgiving nature and big hearts trapped inside those tiny bodies, had taught her much – and even Maleficent was proving herself more complex than just a playful, sassy, bitter creature that wanted to look like the big, wicked fae but in reality had the softest heart above all.

She tossed around in her bed and kicked away the covers, missing her bed in the cottage; it was smaller, perhaps, but way more comfortable. She’d dragged Maleficent there not only for the human healers, but because she was getting scared of her liking too much the Moors – lately, she was starting to miss less and less the privileged of the world of men and found herself growing fond of the simplest of things. She had tried to deny it, but now there was no use anymore: for how much she was regretting admitting it, she felt much better in the magical land.

Guilt rushed over her like an unstoppable wave. If she wasn’t feeling comfortable there, she couldn’t even think about Maleficent. She’d dragged an ill, weakened fae across the lands just for a selfish reason, using her temporary meekness shamelessly. And, in the end, she didn’t even like to stay in her old castle anymore – that trip had just been a big mistake. Perhaps their healers wouldn’t even find a cure for a fae. It would’ve been better to leave her there, resting inside their cottage and taking care of her.

Ingrith had washed her hands of her. She didn’t even think of taking care of Maleficent for one minute, not even in return of everything she’d done for her – and endured because of her – taking everything for granted. She had been ungrateful just because her temper and selfishness had got in the way. It wasn’t fair; she was better than that now.

Heaving a sharp sigh, Ingrith practically threw herself out of bed and padded barefoot through the castle, headed to her old room. She tried to make as less noise as possible, particularly hating, for no specific reason, the thought of being caught sneaking out from her room to Maleficent’s by any of the family members – not that it was necessarily a bad thing; after all, she would be merely checking on her, taking advantage of her insomnia. It was an innocent, not to mention natural, thing to do.

She kept telling herself that for a couple of minute before finally reaching the closed door of what, in the past, had been her private chambers, her own shelter where she could be away from what she thought being a dumb, spineless husband who couldn’t even see that his wife didn’t love him or care for him. Ingrith had never appreciated his peaceful nature. And how could she, blinded by hatred and frustration as she had been? Now Ingrith felt like she had never been really herself. There was a whole new person beneath that cold-hearted witch she’d created to protect her own image. And there was a time when she’d called Maleficent the evil, when she’d been a worse kind of monster: a double-faced one who didn’t even know what she was doing.

Her path of redemption would be long, but Ingrith was more than willing to start it, beginning with showing some gratitude to the only person who had hurt the most and still welcomed into her home and took care of her. Maybe Maleficent had only obeyed to the Queen’s request, but somehow she knew, _felt_ , there was something more to it.

Tiptoeing, she entered the room and pushed the door closed with a dim squeak. The fire inside the mantel was strong and the burning wood cracked loudly every now and then, bathing everything into a warm, orange light that made the night look less dark.

For a spilt second, she even forgot why she went there, memories of her hollow, sad life flashing through her mind, and she wondered if her fighting spirit had been just a way to meet up the void that now the Moors had filled – or had it been Maleficent?

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind when her eyes fell on the bed and, more specifically, on the quivering bundle on top of it. Ingrith walked closer to the bed, unable to take her eyes off the unshaped lump that she just couldn’t make out: it was a mess of feathers, limbs and covers.

Tilting her head and leaning closer into it, still keeping a certain distant, Ingrith finally managed to identify Maleficent’s face, half-hidden under one of her wings. She wasn’t wearing one of her black outfits, nor she had her hair and horns wrapped – luckily Aurora had convinced to wear something more comfortable that vaguely resembled a nightgown, even though she didn’t remember owning a white one so short. Perhaps it was a faery’s doing or one of the Queen’s latest purchases. For a moment, she even wondered why Maleficent wouldn’t wear her hair long and free more often. Honestly, she looked less scary, if anything the fae looked fascinating, she would say.

Ingrith swallowed and flinched. Well, she was getting carried away.

The healers had said that the fever would die out in the morning, that it was just a common cold, nothing some basic herbal remedies and rest wouldn’t cure, and yet she felt worried. Most of all, she felt like she had not done enough – or nothing at all if not possibly making things worse – until then, so she wanted to be of help.

Though Maleficent seemed soundly asleep, her slumber didn’t appear to be one of the most peaceful ones. She was breathing through weak wheezes because her clogged nose wouldn’t allow her otherwise and judging by how tightly she kept her wings secured around her curled body, feathers shaking and legs rubbing to each other, Ingrith decided she was cold.

Sighing, she glanced over the mantel, feeling lost when she realized than any attempt to make the fire bigger would most likely end up into a fire that would eat the whole castle overnight and the covers were so tangled up around her legs and arms that it would’ve been impossible to use them without waking Maleficent. Somehow, going back to her own room to retrieve her own blanket seemed too risky and she was suddenly feeling so tired that the journey back and forth was just too much to endure. Surely there was something better she could do.

Slowly, timidly, and careful like a cat about to jump in its prey, she crawled up on the bed and sat clueless on her heels, pausing a moment to take the situation in. If she had felt nervous, alone in her room, now that she was in Maleficent’s company, in a scenario that reminded her of the last nights in the cottage, made her feel unbelievably reassured. Who would’ve thought that her accommodation back in the Moors would function as a stress-relief inside a rich castle full of all kinds of comfort? And was it really just the cottage or was it the person she shared it with?

She sighed gravely, fighting stubbornly the overwhelming sense of tiredness now that her anxiety seemed to have been lifted away from her entire body and mind. And Maleficent was still cold. She had gone there to check on her in the first place, had she not?

Ingrith shrugged and, hardly suppressing a yawn, she just let herself drop next to the sleeping body of the fae. At first, she remained still, pretty unsure where her body ended and her wings started, but then just decided to forget everything and threw one of her arms across the messy bundle, shifting closer to her. Maleficent’s body felt warm against her skin and Ingrith had to remind herself that the healer said it was normal to get a higher fever during the night – it was a human thing though and forced every serious worry in the back of her mind.

Sighing contently when she felt Maleficent finally stop shaking, the woman closed her eyes and absent-mindedly rested her head against the softness of the fae’s wing. _Oh_ , if someone, anyone, could see her now. Hugging her former enemy while worrying a great deal about her health. What a softie she’d become with those hideous little creatures!

Ingrith held her closer when she felt Maleficent stir, happily unaware of the glowing eye that was scanning confusedly the room with lazy gold and green flares.

When the fae realized what was the weight beside her by peeking over her shoulder, and her ears twitched at the light breathing sound, she smirked. “I didn’t take you for a snuggler.”

Caught red-handed by an implying whisper, Ingrith widened her eyes for a moment and felt herself blushing. “Shut up, Maleficent.” She snapped, curling on herself but still clutching the fae. “It’s late, sleep!”

Maleficent was racked with her fever and would probably remember nothing of that. It was best just to give in to slumber and end of the discussion there.

...  
  


Aurora let her eyes inspect the tray she was carefully carrying once again. She made sure that none of the cups or plates were made out of iron although she had made it clear not to use any of those things in the kitchen whenever her Godmother was visiting and smiled to herself when her nostrils filled with the sweet, inviting smell of pastries freshly baked.

The healers said that she would feel much better now that the night was over and her fever would be gone almost for sure, hence Aurora supposed she would be hungry. Not to mention that she was impatient to meet her properly and let her taste some of the delicacies that the human world had to offer anyway.

As she turned the last corner to the old wing, she stopped dead, wide eyes and mouth agape, when she saw the former Queen sneaking out of Maleficent’s room and tiptoeing barefoot through the hallway, only to disappear into her own chambers.

It had been one of the oddest things she’d ever witnessed.

Aurora frowned, shaking off the thousands of thoughts that had suddenly crowded her head and resumed her walk, knocking twice on the door as soon as she’d reached it.  
“Godmother?”

For a while, no noise came from inside. Then she heard a very distinct flutter that made her smile: Maleficent was spreading her numbed wings and ruffling her feathers like every morning. “Come on in, Beastie.”

The girl pushed the door open and her smile grew wider at the sight of the fae standing in front of the window, the sunbeams hitting her pale skin with their healing warmth. She was happy also to see that she’d kept her hair unwrapped – so many times she’d tried to convince the fae to leave her locks free and even more were the occasion where she’d tried to braid them without success. “I’m glad you feel better.” She greeted, laying the tray on the table and running to Maleficent to hug her, finally.

She considered that the weeks apart could play some tricks on her judgment, but Aurora spotted something different on the fae’s expression: she looked relaxed like never before and yet her heart was beating fast. Soon enough, when they were both seated to the opposite side of the relatively small table, the image of Phillip’s mother sneaking out of her room in her nightgown flashed through her mind, along with the very strange conversation they had only yesterday, upon their arrival – so much peculiar information to process.

She tried to nibble at one of the pastries to distract herself and postpone the questioning for later, but her stomach wouldn’t have it. Aurora needed to know, she couldn’t keep her tongue at rest anymore.

“Fairy Godmother, what’s going on?” She asked like it was nothing, although using the name she’d gave the fae many years ago, and in its complete form, granted fully attention.

Maleficent, wings folded and fingers hovering like claws as she tried to decide what to eat or try first, suddenly became aware of the girl's presence and question, most of all, and lifted her chin to stare in her eyes. Her stare could look innocent and curious, but the fae knew there was something more demanding beneath that smile.

“What’s going on?” She parroted with a haughty sigh, her voice even.

Aurora couldn’t suppress a timid smirk at that. It was like seeing herself caught red-handed by her aunties when she’d done something naughty and trying desperately to take time and think of a good excuse; as a child and her aunties being clueless pixies most of the time, she often got away, but Maleficent was no child and she wasn’t a brainless pixie.

“You and Ingrith.” She began with a hint of tease in her voice. “You’re close.”

Maleficent crooked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I thought it was your plan.”

“Well, yes- I wanted the two of you to get along.” Confessed Aurora with another smirk.

“Then what?” Asked the fae, narrowing her eyes.

Aurora bit the inside of her cheek when she noticed the other’s sharp cheekbones growing somewhat pinkish. “You created a cottage. For the two of you.” Pointed out the girl.

Maleficent straightened her back, her wings flinching almost imperceptibility. “I did.” She confirmed, struggling not to give anything away. Now that she thought of her action, it was just an odd thing to do, given the situation.

“And judging by her new outfit, you care for her well-being as well.”

Finally identifying the implications, the fae widened her eyes, shifting on her chair. She wanted to look outraged, but she could only feel embarrassed and uncomfortably warm – and not because of the fever. “You’re talking too much, Beastie.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Aurora straightforwardly asked, biting down her own tongue as soon as the words escaped her lips.

She didn’t even have the chance to reply or justify her talking before she felt a gush of wind crashing on her.

“That was inappropriate, Aurora.” The fae scolded, towering her even from the other side of the table.

Aurora sighed deeply, frowning with intent. “Come on, Godmother!” She rose up as well and tightened her jaw. Maleficent just stared at her with her eyebrow crocked up, surprised by such an unexpected outburst.

“Sometimes I feel like our roles are reversed. I taught you just as much as you taught me.” She said firmly. Maleficent didn’t reply at that and when her expression softened, Aurora smiled to her reassuringly. “Not being afraid to love someone, for instance. And trust me, I know something about it.”

Maleficent took a deep breath, trying to soothe her now agitate spirit. She walked around the table and smiled sweetly at the girl, before cupping her cheek with her hand. “I know you do, Beastie. But not everything.” She murmured. “You already talk about love, but it does not always bloom easily. And even if that happens, love doesn’t-”

“-always end well, I know.” Concluded Aurora with a faint roll of her eyes. “But it’s a rather precluding thing. I know your heart has been broken in the past, but keeping distance at all costs, it also means that you won’t let anyone mend it.”

Maleficent swallowed and breathed slowly. “You mended it.” She said softly.

“It’s not the same, Godmother.” Retorted Aurora with the same voice, leaning into the fae’s touch and covering the back of her hand with her own. Then, the girl gave her a mischievous smirk. “Besides, the risk it’s what makes love beautiful and exciting, don’t you think?”

Maleficent sighed, sensing defeat at last. The sweet, innocent girl who ran barefoot with flowers in her hair and only dreamed to play forever in the Moors was all grown up and ready to live the next chapter of her wonderful, blessed life and in return for such granted happiness, she only wanted everyone around her, especially her family, to feel the same.

The fae smiled, unable now to deny those mysterious emotions that had started to build within her. Perhaps Aurora had just opened her eyes – and heart.

“You are going to be a wise Queen, Beastie.”

  
  


Aurora, as most of the times, had been right. The girl had taught her much, even more than she liked to admit; because she had guided her through the years, fed her when her aunties had her starve in her crib, sent Diaval to help her learn how to walk straight and used her magic whenever her curious, careless and adventurous nature would let her small feet run around and over the cliffs. Maleficent had shown her the Moors, the peaceful creatures that lived there and played with her and comforted her when she felt like an outsider, not fully comprehend how and why she was so different from everyone else. But Aurora had shown her how to love in return, how to really care for someone without claiming selfish gains. The girl who had always a smile on her face had brought light into her world again, making the fae see bright again for she had planted the seed of hope deep in her heart. And when that hope had blossomed, it had turned into pure happiness that had made her better.

Better, but still too proud, clung to that false image of herself as the dark, strongest fae that everyone feared. In truth, Maleficent was the scared one. Whenever something new warmed her spirit, she had always tried to push it back, never acting on it.

She had been confused so many times since Ingrith had come to stay in the Moors; she had stayed awake many times at night, slowly swinging on the hammock next to the window of the cottage, thinking about those things that made her wish to stay close to the woman as much as she could, despite the bickering, despite the annoyance, despite her clumsiness that, in a way, amused her each day a little more.

Maleficent had considered everything, yes, and she’d asked herself the same question Aurora had asked that same morning: did she like Ingrith?

The fae snorted, feeling sorry for herself, because whether or not she’d find an answer to such inquire, it wouldn’t make any difference – it was simply useless. Once again, she had waited too long, pondering and dwelling on things such human emotions that for a creature like her were complicated to understand. Just as she struggled to comprehend the disappointment in Aurora’s heart when her whole world had been overturned, now she struggled to comprehend other nonphysical emotions, warm and similar to the ones she felt for her Beastie but, oh, so different as well.

She’d waited too much and, once again, she was late and had missed her chance.

Yes, because even if she was sure that Ingrith was scared and wondering the same things, she had made her wait too long without a single proof nor sign and the woman, tired of waiting, had dragged her back to her own home. To stay. And Maleficent, the fool fae she’d been, had let her without complaints – how could she’d been so clueless and blind? Had the fever really clouded her mind?

But then, of course, Ingrith was allowed to search for whatever she was looking for elsewhere. She too had the right to be happy. Only now Maleficent realized that she could’ve been that person she was seeking for, but the fae let her slip through her fingers – and now it was too late.

“Maleficent?”

The quick knocking noise pulled her harshly back to reality and, when she turned, her heart stung a little upon seeing the objects of her thoughts standing on the doorway. She was wearing one of her old regal clothes, though not as elaborate as the one she wore at the infamous dinner, and her hair was up into a simple, yet elegant style. Ingrith didn’t look like the nasty, old Queen, but what hurt the most was that she didn’t look like the new Ingrith, the one who came from the Moors, either.

She was none anymore. Ingrith was yet another person who Maleficent would struggle, perhaps, to know. Those memories from the night before, which she already doubting were real, had to be erased from her mind since they belonged to fantasy or, worse, to someone who was not anymore. The fae had really lost everything now – and it ached.

“The healers said you’ve recovered completely,” Ingrith said with an encouraging smile which, however, didn’t match the one of the other. “They told that you can go back to the Moors whenever you want but I guessed you wanted to spend another day with Aurora, so I told Phillip not to arrange anything before tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” Murmured Maleficent, betraying some sort of uncertain voice. The more she tried to conceal her worries or sorrows, the more the other seemed to be drawn to her – one thing for sure, she had to practice more the art of deception that the humans seemed to have mastered.

“Do you still feel unwell?” She asked with a frown of concern on her face, walking firmly toward her. “You look glum.” Ingrith stated.

Maleficent flinched back, glaring for a split moment, when she saw the woman getting closer to her and raising her arm, ready to do something unsettling like feeling her forehead or similar. “No, I feel fine.”

Folding her hands in front of her, Ingrith heaved ad sigh, her eyes still scanning the fae. She wasn’t paler than usual, her lips were red, her back was straight and her wings no more slouching, still, her eyes were glowing somewhat lazily. Ingrith didn’t like that.

“Then what is it?” She asked, her glance demanding.

Maleficent looked again at her clothes, her hair, and decided that Ingrith was in her element; since she was born, castles and wealth had been all she’d ever known, how could the fae hope to get the woman accustomed to something primordial and simple like the Moors? Her spirit was another. The loss, however, burned strongly within her: because she could’ve fought and tried, but hadn’t. She’d lost a battle that hadn’t even started. “I guess you’ll stay.” She said.

Ingrith lowered her head at once.

Maleficent watched her as she toyed with her own fingers, uneasy, agitated. When she lifted her chin, there was a strange glow in her eyes and a bittersweet smile bending her lips. “There’s no place for me here anymore.” She whispered with a surprisingly low voice.

The fae swallowed, her mind clearing suddenly. Did her ears hear correctly? “What about the king?” She asked with a puzzled frown. “And Phillip?”

Ingrith stepped closed, hugging her own elbows. “I think it’s obvious by now that I’ve never loved John.” She confessed, biting the inside of her cheek. “As for Phillip, he has a life of his own. I don’t belong here anymore.”

With a twitch of her wings, Maleficent felt her heart stinging again, but in a different way. Was she surprised, thrown off, dazed, happy? Or everything at once?

“You want to come back in the Moors?” She stammered, her own voice sounding distance and foreign. Not even one emotions had escaped and it had almost sounded like a threat. Her breath caught.

“If you’ll have me.” Whispered Ingrith, glancing up at her timidly, shrugging her shoulders. When she found herself unable to read the fae’s mind and her silence work badly on her nerves, she cleared her throat, already hating the future, possible rejection. “You can say what you think, you know. I won’t judge you cruel if you don’t want me, nor.. weak if you do.”

Maleficent took her in. She breathed slowly, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face. She looked positively beautiful and not because of her dress, but because her whole face glowed with something mysterious and so incredibly fascinating. She was just Ingrith now, no layers of pride nor arrogance, but simply the woman who had started to blossom anew in the Moors.

The same woman Maleficent had learned to know and appreciate. The same she liked and felt bound to in ways she didn’t believe possible. The fae swallowed and it was she who took a step closer to Ingrith this time. “I’d like you so to come home with me.”

Ingrith blinked in confusion, though a smile started to creep, wily, on her lips. “Home?”


End file.
